Page 1 of Demitri

PROLOGUE

MIA

ONE YEAR AGO

Left foot.

Right foot.

Deep breath.

Pace yourself.

The goal is five miles today.

You can do five miles.

Left foot.

Right foot.

Deep breath.

Feel the burn, embrace it.

“Fuck!” I yell, stumbling over a stick in the path. “Fuck you stick!”

Running is supposed to make me happy. Supposed to release some endorphins or shit like that. I’ve been running for five years. Still waiting to be happy about it. But the gym doesn’t work on bar-owner schedules, and as my mom’s voice continues to reminds me when I have feelings of inadequacy, I’m not getting any younger and my figure isn’t going to last forever.

That would be one of many reasons I don’t talk to her anymore.

Left foot.

Right foot.

BAM!

“Oof!” a male voice grunts as I make contact with a hard chest.

“Fuck,” I grunt in return, because I don’t bounce off the hard chest. His arms are bound around me, holding me up.

“You alright?” the man asks.

I don’t respond, instead I try to get away. I pull at his arms, but they don’t move. I try to take a step back, but there’s nowhere to go.

“Let me go,” I demand.

“Hey, it’s alright. Just making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. Let me go.”

But it’s too late. It’s not this man holding on to me, but another. He’s a man I’ve been afraid of coming after me for over ten years. The eyes staring at me? They aren’t the crystal blue of this man. They are cold, brown, and want to hurt me.

“Get off of me! I won’t let you hurt me again!” I yell, pushing at his chest.

“I’m not?—”

“Shut up! I’m sick of your lies! I know you want to hurt me. It’s all you ever do!”

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